Broken Cupid

Feral eyes glittering

claws sharp and deadly

she stalks through the night.

Scavenger of broken dreams

looting and thieving what she wants,

lust and loss her domain.

Struggles all around her

ignored for blood thirst.

A revenge that sings to her soul,

calling to her night and day

pulling her forward into the game.

A game that has been in play for eons.

Poised and coiled deadly beauty

a serpent ready to strike.

She takes aim with fatal precision

and boldly strikes at your heart.

Her weapon of choice?

A barbed arrow.

Coated with not love and adoration

but bitterness and strife.

Her desire not to pleasure

but to destroy

for all the harm done to her.

Centuries have passed

and still she rides,

seeking, forever searching.

A broken cupid who has lost her reason,

her life,

and finally her sanity.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

October 21/17

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Regrets

As I lay naked before you

I sense your reverence

in the whispering touch

of your fingers upon my skin.

Your eyes capture mine

not letting me look away

your mouth covers mine

leaving me breathless.

I try so hard to deny

the emotions I feel.

You banter and pull,

pushing down the walls I built

to protect my heart.

Tears well as I stare up at your face,

the connection so strong-

and I realize

no matter how hard I try

you have penetrated my mind,

my heart, my body and my soul.

I am yours today, tomorrow and always.

My love in your care

please do not make me regret.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 20/17

Missed Chances

Pleasure fragranced with vanilla kisses

sun touched dappled skin.

Two figures wrapped in summer’s embrace

beneath a waxing moon;

gentle touches

and whispered promises.

Castles spun from sugared dreams

dances played across crystal floors

nestled within arms of steel

and hearts found forever more.

Pink hued romance

of a fairy tale once told.

Handsome Kings and

winsome Queens,

play with nuance

a subtle game of hearts

and thrones.

Love can be found 

in niches not seen

but stolen kisses

and hidden misses

a love story make.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 18/17

Fragile Chrysalid

I am caught

between hopeful dreams

and bruising reality.

I weave a web of gossamer

light and fragile

delight and wonder

as I breath deeply of love.

I fall beneath the riptide

my breath sucked from my lungs

my eyes widening in desperation

as I lose the hope I held close.

This love

will it be my heaven or my hell?

Will finding the pieces of my heart again

and handing them to you;

be a comfort

or a cold regret?

My heart.

Fragile chrysalid

bound by your tender words.

Do not undo

the braided strands

for I cannot endure

not without you as my light.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 17/17

Harsh Reality

The way that I am feeling is in part a response to T crying for his dad last night.

For my inability to see beyond my own ego and knee jerk reaction of being hurt oh yeah that is a big factor.

Because I feel like such a fraud. That I am not really a good mom. I am not even a mediocre mom.

I come home from work, I make us dinner. I clean up, I get T’s lunch for the next day ready. I check to make sure everything has been taken out of his knapsack. Finally, I get to take my uniform off put my jammies on, wash my face and sit on the couch. T is on the computer as usual. I usually flip through Netflix throw something on and read or check messages on my phone.

I head to bed about 8:30, exhausted from my day. From being on all the time. From all the smiling and talking. I have nothing left to give to T but my kind indifference. I love him I do. I am not sure I am the right mom for him.

I want to be that mom who is there for everything. Who is able to stay home and care for her child and be there to volunteer at school. The mom who makes the arts and crafts projects that her child wants to make. Baking fresh cookies. Making dinner with all the four major food groups. But that is not the reality of my life.

My life is tiring. My anxiety is beginning to creep up again and I know why. The weather is changing so there is less sunlight. Less sunlight means less vitamin d. Less vitamin d leads to a plummet in my moods which even my meds cannot help to balance out. So I added vitamin d into my daily vitamin regime and am waiting for my energy to kick in at home. Not only during the eight hours that I am at work.

I am finding it more and more difficult to relate to T. His life is nerf guns and Scrap Mechanic. Watching videos of people playing videos. I do not know how to talk to him. I ask questions and bug for answers. He answers briefly before shutting me out. Again that is my fault.

So I need to change. Changing my behaviour will lead to a change in T’s behaviour. No more supper before the computer and t.v. Off the computer and electronics from 8:30-9 during which time T and me will play cards or talk about what is going on.

I cannot continue to follow this path. It is hurting me and hurting T. I want more than anything to be a mom that T knows loves him so much even if I cannot be and do all the things I want to for him. That is all.

Just that he knows I love him.

Worry who me?

I worry a lot……I worry about work I worry about paying bills and most of all I worry about T. I worry I do not do enough I worry that I am not there enough I worry that I am not showing him enough love or time. I worry non-stop that I am failing him as a mom. Will there ever come a time when I can look at my child and say I have given him my all or will I always worry that I could give him so much more. He is my sun and my moon. He is why I get up in the morning and laugh. He is a dream come true and I am lucky to have him……But I shall always worry that I am failing him.

Written by me Oct. 13/16

The above popped up on my FB memories Friday. As I read over it, my heart ached for how vulnerable and scared I was. How as I began to walk the twisted path of my depression, I could not see where I was headed. But this tells me. However, that is not what this blog is about.

I no longer worry that I am going to fail T. I do worry that I let him spend too much time on the computer either watching Youtube or playing his Scrap Mechanic or Minecraft. I worry that I don’t make him read enough but on the other hand I do not want to make him hate reading. I do worry that I don’t talk to him enough although he reassures me all the time that I talk more than enough for both of us.

As a mom, my main job besides loving T is to turn him into a semblance of a productive member of society. Which means laying down some ground rules. Teaching him responsibility. Disabusing him of the notion that he and he alone matters in the world. I try to open his eyes to the differences around him so that he sees people and lives, nothing else.

I have taught him a fair share of my bad habits as well. He is sarcastic. He always has to have the final word. He likes to procrastinate. Whether he realizes it or not, he likes words which is a bonus in my book.  (By the way, the word thing not a bad habit)

Overall, as I look at the young man T is growing into, I am fairly confident that he is going to turn into that productive member of society that I want him to be. There are still going to be some struggles ahead (I mean c’mon, he is a boy about to go into puberty and yeah, how do I handle that one?) so you may want to check back with me in a year or so to see if I am still writing and singing his praises.

 

 

To love again

Some days,

I can hear

the soundless whispers of my heart.

A sweet caress,

a gentle understanding

of what I see before me.

Arms around

tightening in protection.

My lion, 

my bear,

my knight in shining armour.

You saw a woman,

broken and beaten

stumbling along the crooked path.

Reaching out ,

you strove to uncover

the love and happiness

that lay shrouded 

beneath the fear and distrust.

Beneath these star lit skies

I dance and whirl

secure in the knowledge

that love 

and you

have found a home again within me.

Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 12/17